


Three Is the Wind In the Leaves

by Chash



Series: Deep As My Love Is [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 17:14:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12892821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: Clarke hasn't cared about Christmas for a while, but it is something of a family holiday. And now she does have something of a family.





	Three Is the Wind In the Leaves

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for [peachfacedlovebirds](https://peachfacedlovebirds.tumblr.com/)!

Christmas, for Clarke, hasn’t been very exciting or notable for a good few years now. When she was a child, she got as caught up in it as anyone, the spectacle of it, the music and the presents and the atmosphere. And she didn’t ever lose that, exactly, but it was easy to feel, as she grew older, that the holiday didn’t deliver on its promise. Especially after her father died, she and her mother didn’t do much more than exchange a gift or two, something practical, usually, have dinner, and attend mass. It’s not a bad day, and when she was teaching, she appreciated having the break from classes, but it’s not like it was when she was a child.

Or at least it wasn’t. Now, though, she has a child of her own, and a family, and Christmas has an entirely new meaning.

It starts with the tree.

“You cut your own?”

Bellamy frowns. “How else would we get one?”

“They have tree lots. The trees are already cut for you.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

After nine months of being married to Bellamy, Clarke finally feels as if she’s getting used to her husband. She had known him before, of course, but most of what she knew about him came after her pregnancy, and it’s been a strange, uneven road of getting to know him since then. She knows about his family history, his sister, his mother, but she only recently learned his middle name.

“Getting the tree was never really the most fun part of Christmas for me.”

“Because you didn’t cut your own, obviously.”

She has to smile. “Obviously. Is the baby coming? Is this important for her to witness this?”

“She’s making Christmas memories, Clarke.”

“She’s not even three months old, she doesn’t have memories yet.”

He leans over to let Julia wrap her little hands around his finger, smiling his usual warm smile. There had been a part of Clarke that worried about the baby being born, that couldn’t help wondering if once she was born, he wouldn’t love either of them as much as he’d thought he had. It had seemed like it would be easy, to  _think_  you wouldn’t mind raising another man’s child, only to find the reality of it upsetting.

But Bellamy doesn’t seem to think he’s raising another man’s child. He’s raising his own daughter, and he adores her.

Sometimes, Clarke remembers that she is quite exceptionally lucky.

“Do you think that?” he asks, distracting her from her thoughts.

“What?”

“I know she won’t  _really_  remember,” he says. “Not anything specific. But I think she’ll remember some part of it. I remember being unhappy before I remember knowing why.”

“Really?”

He shrugs. “I don’t think it ruined my life. But I want her to know we love her before she knows anything else.”

“And that means she needs to come cut down a Christmas tree with us?” she asks, leaning her chin against his shoulder. “So she’ll know?”

“She comes with us most places, right? It’s this or leave her with Octavia.”

“I wasn’t objecting. But I wasn’t expecting you to have a lot of Christmas traditions, I guess.”

“My mom never did much, so I was in charge. And it was nice to have–” He shrugs. “When we were little, we couldn’t afford much, so we’d always get two big presents a year, Christmas and our birthdays. It was always a pretty big deal for us. And now we’ve got Julia,” he adds, picking up the baby and giving her a bounce. “I haven’t really done that much for Christmas recently, but I want her first one to be good.”

Clarke has to smile. “Because you want her to be happy.”

“You say that like it’s weird. Of course I do. I want her entire life to be as happy as possible. Don’t you?”

“Well, yes. I just didn’t think Christmas was such a big part of that.”

“I don’t know if it’s  _such_  a big part,” he says. “Might as well find out.”

*

In no time at all, their little house is full of Christmas cheer. First it’s the tree, and some boughs of holly and evergreen, and then Bellamy strings up lights and Octavia puts up bows and snowflakes. Bellamy brings home armfuls of Christmas cards and treats from school, and it still makes her heart twinge strangely to see them addressed to  _Mr. and Mrs. Blake_. When she got those in years past, she tended to just read them and put them aside, but Bellamy likes displaying them around the apartment, and Clarke gets sucked in without really planning to, just because he has absolutely  _no_  aesthetic sense at all.

Or he was baiting her into helping. Either way, she’ll admit she enjoys herself.

Presents are a little more complicated. Clarke doesn’t have a lot of  _friends_ , not of the kind she has to buy gifts for. In years past, she made cookies and gave them out in small packets; she thinks she even gave them to  _Bellamy_  last year, along with the rest of her coworkers, and it’s staggering to remember how slight her impression of him was, back then. He’d always struck her as brusque and a little grumpy, but in a way she liked. He’d been handsome, of course, and the students liked him, which always improved her opinion of people.

But she didn’t even know his first name, somehow. She’d written  _Mr. Blake_  on the tag and not given it a second thought.

“What do you think your brother wants for Christmas?” she asks Octavia.

“Things for the baby.”

Clarke smiles. “I don’t think I can buy him things for the baby.”

“You could, he wouldn’t mind. I’m going to.”

“But he’s going to get me something.”

“Oh, yes, obviously. He’ll probably get you a lot of things. Bell loves Christmas.”

“So I need to buy him something. Any ideas?”

“You don’t  _have_  to get him something, he won’t be offended if you don’t. But you know him, he’s not hard to shop for. School supplies, books, he likes all that stuff.”

“It’s not very special.”

“Just tell him how much you love him or something. He likes giving people presents, that’s his big thing. It makes him happy. If that’s not your thing, he won’t mind.”

It’s clearly a perspective Octavia finds comforting, but it only makes Clarke feel worse. Bellamy’s absolutely going to find some amazing gift for her, and if she doesn’t find one for him, it’s going to be awful.

So she goes to Miller.

“Do you not have friends?” he asks, squinting at her.

“Not many,” she admits. “Besides, you’re  _his_  best friend. I want advice about him. Why wouldn’t I ask you?”

“Because I just give him booze for every holiday. I assume you don’t want to do that.”

“Not really.”

Miller regards her. “Look, I’m just going to tell you this once,” he says. “Or, whatever, I’d probably tell you more if you wanted, just don’t make me. Bellamy’s going to love whatever you get, because he’s legitimately crazy about you, and you make him happy. So, like–get him something you think he’ll like and he will.”

“And this is why I came to you for advice,” she says. “Thank you.”

He smiles, just a little. “Like I said, let’s not do this more often. Merry Christmas.”

*

Two weeks before Christmas, packages start arriving.

“Bellamy, this is way too much.”

He shakes his head, looking about as confused as she feels. “These aren’t from me. Give me some credit,” he adds, regaining some of his equilibrium and flashing her a smile. “I know how to be subtle.”

“Do you?”

“You haven’t found any of your presents yet, so obviously I do. I think these are from your mother.”

“My mother?”

“That’s what it looks like. Addressed to Julia Blake, so we know it’s not for us.”

“I’m sure there’s something for us in there, but–I wonder how much she’s going to send.”

“We knew Julia was going to get the most presents.”

“Is she?” she asks, wary. “How many presents are you hiding for me?”

“Just three. And two are small.”

“How do you define small?”

“Roughly equivalent to books. I didn’t think you liked making a big deal of it.”

“No. I’m trying to figure out how much I should be getting you,” she admits.

“As much as you want. But not this much,” he adds, looking at the packages. “This is excessive.”

“I want to be getting you as much as you get me.”

He thinks it over. “I’m getting you one larger present that I think is going to be meaningful. And then two smaller things I think you’ll like. If you want a budget I can give you one, but I think it’s more about emotional impact.”

“That actually makes me feel a lot better,” she admits.

He leans over to kiss her. “I know. I am actually getting to know you,” he teases. “You don’t have to worry, Clarke. I’ll be happy with anything you get me. And I assume you’ll be happy with anything I get you.”

“Of course. And Julia’s too young to know what’s going on, so she’ll be happy no matter what. So as long as we get something nice for Octavia, we’ll all have a merry Christmas.”

“You don’t sound worried about that.”

“I was going to take her out shopping. I assume she’d hate any clothes I bought her, so she can just do it herself.”

“Perfect. Can I just contribute funds to that and call it a day?”

“She’s not getting three presents too? She’ll be counting.”

“Small stuff is easy.”

“Easy for  _you_ ,” she says.

He squeezes her arm. “You’ll be fine. I’m already having a great Christmas. With all these gifts from your mother, how could I not be?”

“Obviously,” she says, unable to hide her smile. “How could you not?”

*

Three days later, she stumbles on his present, completely by accident. She’s with Julia, looking for an outfit for Christmas mass, when she sees a display of merchandise for new parents.

It’s not as if she thinks Bellamy  _doesn’t_  consider himself Julia’s father. She knows he does. That’s how she refers to him, and how he refers to himself. As far as almost everyone else in the world is concerned, there isn’t even a question.

But she’s gotten to know him too, by now, and she knows he still thinks of it sometimes, that he’s still aware. And it’s an awareness that nags at him, every now and then.

So she doesn’t buy any of the products they have at the store, but now that she has a plan, it doesn’t bother her that she doesn’t think his big present is going to cost very much. It’s not really about price, after all.

It’s meaningful. That’s the important thing.

They’re having Christmas morning in their own house, on their own, and then Bellamy and Clarke will go see Clarke’s mother for dinner while Octavia stays home, which everyone agrees counts as an additional present for her. Clarke’s not entirely looking forward to it, but Abby wants to see her grandchild for the holiday, and it’s hard to object to that.

Still, her present to Bellamy feels private, so she wakes him up early.

“Isn’t Julia supposed to be the one who can’t wait for morning?” he grumbles, when she shakes his arm. “Fuck, what time is it?”

“We have half an hour before breakfast.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want your sister to see me give you your present.”

“I’d assume it was sex, but we’re waiting another week on that.”

“It’s not sex. It’s just–private.”

He yawns, but does drag himself into a sitting position. “Mine probably is too, come to think of it. O would just make fun of me.” He gives her a quick peck. “Merry Christmas. Is mine under the tree?”

“Not the one I want to give you now.”

“Let me go grab yours and I’ll be back.”

Bellamy’s present is waiting in the closet, and Clarke rescues it from its hiding place and returns to the bed, sitting cross-legged. Bellamy doesn’t take long downstairs, returning with one of the small packages that had appeared under the tree with her name on it last week.

“I thought it was going to be a bigger one,” she says, giving the box a careful shake.

“Size isn’t everything, Clarke. You go first.”

“Why me?”

“Christmas tradition. Youngest to oldest. You’re younger than I am, so–”

“You made up that rule so Octavia would get to go first, didn’t you?”

“Like she needed the excuse. Go ahead.”

She takes the wrapping off carefully, and, as she expected he would, Bellamy folds it up to save for later. The box is instantly recognizable as a jewelry box, and she opens it to find a delicate silver chain with a hoop-shaped pendant.

“I wanted to–” He smiles a little, sheepish. “I know you have a perfectly good wedding ring, but you got that before we were–before it was real. I wanted to give you something else, something that says–”

She catches his mouth for a kiss. “I love you too. Put it on for me?”

She pulls her hair up, and he fastens the clasp around her neck. It’s something she would have happily bought for herself, and the realization sends a thrill through her. Looking back now, she remembers telling him these things, that she prefers gold to silver, that she favors simple designs without too much ostentation. It had been months and months ago, when Christmas wasn’t even on the horizon.

“It’s perfect, Bellamy. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. My turn?”

“Your turn.”

Her package is larger, and when he feels the weight of it, he smiles. “You got me a private book?”

“Just open it.”

He does as he’s told, sliding his finger under each strip of tape to pull it up, the paper coming out even cleaner than Clarke’s had, for all the care she took. But his hands still in the folding when he realizes what he’s actually looking at, and Clarke’s the one to take the paper.

“Family Photo Album,” he reads, fingers tracing the title.

“I know we have photographs of her,” she says. “Of all of us. But I wanted somewhere better to keep the best ones than a shoe box. There are already some in there, but there’s room for plenty more.”

He opens it up, smiles at the first one, the two of them in a picture her mother insisted on taking so she could announce the marriage before the baby came along.

“Mom and Dad?” he asks, glancing up from the caption in surprise.

“That’s our role in the family.”

“It is.” He smiles at the next one page,  _Dad and Julia_  and  _Julia and Aunt Octavia_ , and laughs aloud at  _Dad and Aunt Octavia_ , a Christmas picture of the two of them as children that Octavia had managed to find. “This is–I can’t believe we didn’t have one already.”

“Well, we’re still new at being a family,” she says. “We haven’t gotten everything figured out yet.”

“No,” he agrees, closing the album and leaning over to kiss her again. “But I think we’re getting close. Should we just go downstairs? Get a start on Christmas breakfast?”

“That sounds perfect,” she says. “Why wait?”


End file.
